


What You Are In The Dark

by belladonawritings



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Porn, Blood Kink, Dark Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Pining Lance (Voltron), Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 01:56:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10777029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belladonawritings/pseuds/belladonawritings
Summary: Lance catches a Galra intruder, and ends up alone with him in Blue's cockpit. He can't be judged for what other people don't know about, right? And the best of opportunities shouldn't be wasted.





	What You Are In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nyeh413peasants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyeh413peasants/gifts).



> Written for my wonderful girlfriend~ here have some... angsty, funny dark smut? who even hecking knows
> 
> Please read warnings and tags!

In the harsh light of Blue’s cockpit, Lance wondered how he could have ever thought the intruder was Shiro. Perhaps in sunlight, the resemblance had been perfect. But now, here under fluorescent alien illumination, he could see the yellow in the intruder’s pupils, the sharpness of his teeth, the ridges of his cheekbones.

 

“Okay, wise guy. You’ve got 5 minutes to tell me who you are and what you did with Shiro,” Lance growled, pointing his bayard at the Galra’s head. What else could he be, after all?

 

The intruder didn’t seem too fazed by the gun pointed to his head, or the fact that Lance had him pinned to the dashboard by his neck. “Well, aren’t  _ you  _ interesting?” he purred.

 

“Shiro. Where is he?”

 

“You’re awfully fixated, aren’t you? Well, for your information,” The intruder grinned, exposing all his sharp teeth, “I flushed him out of the airlock.”

 

The gun fired, leaving a sizzling burn mark an inch to the left of the intruder’s head. He  _ had  _ flinched, but to his credit, not by much. A few moments later, Lance’s comm flickered to life. “It’s okay, Lance, we got him!”

 

“Where was he? Is he okay? Shiro?”   
  


There was a laugh, then a slightly more distant voice. “I’m fine, Lance. He just locked me into my quarters.”

 

“ _ Really,  _ now.” Lance glared at the intruder. “Seems he didn’t want to hurt you after all.”

 

“Yeah, I think he’s tied to my life force or something. I die, he dies.”

 

The intruder’s cocky grin faltered a little. Lance chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Aren’t  _ you  _ interesting?” he echoed. And man, the look on the fucker’s face was  _ worth it.  _ “I’m glad you’re okay,” Lance added. “I’ll take care of this guy -”

 

“Be careful,” interjected Pidge. “We don’t know if it goes both ways -”

 

Lance flipped his gun in his hand, and smacked the butt into the imposter’s face as he could. There was a distinct crunch of bone, and blood spattered the butt of his bayard. “Shiro, did that hurt?” he asked matter-of-factly, ignoring the groan of pain underneath him.

 

“No?” came the confused reply.

 

“Good. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” He took off his helmet, flicked off the com, and threw it to the side.

, 

The Galra clone, or duplicate, or whatever, glared up at him, wiping some of the blood from his nose and lip. “You think you’re going to win in a fight against me? Is  _ that  _ what’s going on here?” He levered himself up from the dashboard, smirk growing on his face. “Are you that desperate to prove yours-?”

 

The knife appeared at his throat an instant later. Lance couldn’t help the rush of satisfaction at - once again - proving to be more than a match. He should play like this more often. “In case you’re wondering,” he said lightly, “our bayards shift to whatever we need.”

 

“And you need a knife, because?” said the Galra from between gritted teeth.

 

“Better for what I need it for.”

 

“That’s not an  _ answer. _ ”

 

“Look around you, Galra. You’re in  _ my  _ lion, in  _ my  _ castle, and I have a weapon and you don’t.” Lance pressed the knife a little harder to the Galra’s neck. “What’s your plan?”

 

The Galra just chuckled. “So what’s this about, little paladin? Need somebody to practice on? Or - oh,  _ I  _ see.” His yellow-tinted eyes flashed as he looked down at Lance, lip curling. “You can’t have the human version of me, can’t you? And you think you can just work out your aggressions on  _ me - _ ”

 

Lance’s fist drove into the Galra’s stomach, and he collapsed to the ground, coughing. Lance supposed he  _ could  _ have been nice and used the hand without the bayard. “Man, do you  _ ever  _ shut up?”

 

The Galra just coughed up a bit more blood, and glared up at Lance. He couldn’t help another cocky grin. “ _ Now  _ are you taking me seriously?”

 

“Is death still an option?” the intruder grumbled instead.

 

“Fraid not.” God, Lance was  _ so tempted.  _ And... Lance glanced at his helmet. Nobody would  _ know.  _ Nobody would believe a Galra clone who’d failed his mission.

 

With trembling fingers, he unbuttoned his pants, trying to pretend he wasn’t blushing like an idiot. The Galra - Kuro, he decided - wasn’t  _ wrong.  _ This was the closest he was ever going to get to Shiro.

 

“Oh, you cannot be -”

 

Lance interrupted Kuro’s protests by grabbing a handful of his hair, pulling his head back until he was forced into eye contact with him. “Are you sassing the one with the knife?” he asked in a low, threatening voice. “If you want to get out of this with nothing more injured than your dignity - well, and your face, I suppose - you’ll do what I say.” The effect was somewhat ruined by the tremble in his voice.

 

Kuro glared up at him, then with a growing smirk, opened his mouth - and spat in Lance’s face.

 

Oh, that was fucking  _ it.  _ Lance slammed his head back against the wall, fumbling with his underwear. Kuro kept his mouth stubbornly closed, until Lance brought the knife to his cheek, sharp blade kissing his skin. “Open your  _ fucking  _ mouth,” Lance gasped, and the moment he did, Lance slid his cock between Kuro’s lips, a moan leaving his mouth as he did.

 

_ Fuck.  _ Fuck, that was… unbelievably better than he’d thought it would be. Kuro’s teeth grazed over him, but his mouth was warm and wet and soft, and whatever guilt Lance felt over what he was doing was lost as he felt Kuro’s throat muscles fight against him.

 

“Sh-Shiro,” he gasped, pushing his cock as deep into the clone’s mouth as it would go. And especially without the voice, and with tears streaming down that beautiful chiseled fucking face, he really  _ could  _ pretend it was Shiro, that it was Shiro sucking on him, Shiro’s tongue rasping over him…

 

He shuddered, then tried to hold on, grasping Kuro’s hair again and pulling himself out of his mouth. “Th-that’s enough,” he gasped, voice shaking.

 

“Don’t last long, do you-?”

 

“Shut up,” Lance growled, falling to his knees and tearing at Kuro’s trousers. He’d expected to have to punch him again - to have to force him more - but Kuro was almost… encouraging him. A pair of scarred, slightly clawed hands slid up his shirt - Lance tried to mind, tried to care, but if he closed his eyes and imagined it was Shiro touching him it was fine -

 

He lifted one of Kuro’s thighs over his shoulder, biting down on the tender flesh and holding him still as he squirmed. Then he bent down, Kuro’s legs still over his shoulders, and grinned into his prisoner’s face. “Are you enjoying yourself?” He could feel Kuro’s cock, thick against his stomach, but he refused to touch it.

 

But the Galra had more than given up. Instead, he leaned up and ran his teeth over Lance’s cheek, nipping on his cheekbone, then hissed, “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

 

Lance almost came right there, but he knew if he did, he’d never hear the end of it -  _ from who why do you care what he thinks he’s not Shiro he’s not Shiro -  _ and instead, he reached down and positioned himself at the Galra’s opening, another shiver running through him as his fingers brushed over the ring of muscle.

 

“I -” He wanted to say something - but it wasn’t Shiro, it wasn’t Shiro even though he looked like him.

 

_ You’re not Shiro - _

 

He raised the blade still in his hand to Kuro’s face, and as he pushed into him, inch by excruciatingly tight inch, he let the blade cut into his cheek, until the blood was dripping out of his face and down the blade of the knife, onto Lance’s hand. “There,” he breathed, hilted inside his prisoner. “Now I can see you.”

 

He dropped the knife and wrapped his bloody hand around Kuro’s throat. He pulled out - then slammed back home again, harder with every thrust, until Kuro was whimpering instead of moaning, barely able to make a sound around the fingers cutting off his windpipe -

 

-his orgasm hit him and he tensed on top of Kuro, fingers digging into the tender flesh of his throat until the white daze had passed.

 

Lance lifted his hand. There was more blood on it than he’d thought there would be. But Kuro was still alive and moving, so that was good enough.  _ Not Shiro. Not Shiro. Not Shiro. _

 

He took hold of his shaft, pulling himself out of Kuro, and started cleaning himself up, putting his armour back on. He still pointedly ignored his helmet.

 

Kuro didn’t move from the ground, staggered breaths coming hard and fast from his mouth. The blood from his nose and cheek was dripping to the ground, pooling underneath him. Some of it had gotten into the white part of his hair, turning it in an odd shade of pink. Then - “I’m not Shiro,” he said, voice hoarse. The handprint around his neck was starting to bruise. Lance didn’t know how he felt about that. No - that was giving himself a little too much credit. He didn’t know how he felt about the rest of his team seeing it.

 

“No, you’re not,” Lance agreed.

 

_ But you’ll do. _


End file.
